Just a few minutes' walk from here (and three months ago), our good friend Kitaoka Shinya married Nishio Tomoko at Saginomori shrine. I had the honor of being the official amateur photographer, armed with my digital Nikon, an old-school Nikon from Kitaoka's camera collection, and a bag of his lenses. My lack of experience photographing weddings was complicated slightly by my not being able to review or delete the photos shot with the film camera. How did we manage in the old days? ; )
Congratulations, Kitaoka-san and Tomoko-san! It makes Mari and I very happy to see the two of you happy together, and we wish you long life, much love and many children.
I'm wearing my puffy down jacket indoors again, which means summer is over, but I still have these memories of our road trip with Divyam last June. He drove us north to the Tango peninsula on a weekend tour of his favorite places, including (from left) his peaceful old farmhouse B&B, this spa on the beach, and Ama-no-hashidate, where this whole shoal of fish hung drying in the sun.

Above: Amirel Lachish (middle), a friend I met through Japanese class, leads his trio on bass at a groovin' night at Candy last Sunday. Sadly, Amirel heads back to Australia this week. Hope to see you next Spring, Ami!
The Hiwatari-sai ceremony at Tanukidanisan Fudoin temple (on July 28) is best explained elsewhere, but I will answer your, um, burning question, Did you walk on the fire? Yes, I did! But it wasn't fire, or coals, just a path of blackened earth where the fire had once been, with the flames still burning on either side. It was very smoky, but the ground had cooled enough that it was more comfortable than walking on hot beach sand.

My photos of this year's Gion Matsuri parade (on July 17) were pretty boring, but here's one you won't find on Flickr — Nils of Alive in Kyoto (well, the back of him, anyway) filming the turning of one of the Yamaboko, or parade floats.
Photos from a relaxing afternoon at the home of a couple we met in Fujino last May. She's a potter and bead artist, and he's an illustrator/sculptor. Their living room was a colorful clutter of bicycles, vintage toys, posters, drawings. Hanging from the ceiling, a photo-mobile, koinobori carp flags, and a motorized globe. R2-D2 and Ultraman were there, as was a Picasso-inspired bull's head fashioned out of a bicycle seat and handlebars. I had the impression that the toys belonged to the 50-something dad as much as to the five-year-old son.

Atchan's morning tea, gumdrops, and English practice. Her lesson book reads:
A: Good morning.
B: Good morning. Did you sleep well?
A: Not really. I woke up several times because it was so hot.
B: Why didn't you turn on the air conditioning?
A:I wanted to, but I couldn't find the remote control.
B:Oops! I was using yours because mine didn't work. I'm sorry.
A:Give it back to me! Now it's your turn. You're going to have a hot night.

Mari and Atchan walk through the vegetable garden at Shu, the casually hip and delicious restaurant/cafe where Atchan cooks.